Eve of Change
by bsloths
Summary: On December 31, 2005, something happened that would eventually impact the entire East High student body. Follow 8 juniors as they reflect on their holidays, not yet realizing that their lives are about to change drastically in the coming weeks…
1. Chad

In honor of the DVD release of HSM 3, I'm posting the first in a series of oneshots depicting the main characters right before the start of High School Musical. The stories will be somewhat connected, but this isn't a traditional chapter fic. I just wanted to explore what each of the main characters were thinking before Gabriella came into their lives (and supposedly, you know, changed East High forever. You can be the judge of the validity of that claim on your own).

Enjoy!

--Brandi

Disclaimer: I own an I Heart Chad pillow and a Corbin Bleu keychain, but not the actual character. My Chad does not belong in a Disney movie, anyway.

**Chad Danforth **

**New Year's Day 2006**

**11:16 a.m.**

When Zeke called to make sure I got home okay, I told him I didn't remember much about last night.

The thing is, I remember it perfectly. I'm just going to choose to forget what happened.

Yeah, right. Easier said than done. It's not every day a guy like me fools around with an Evans.

Sharpay hosted a huge party. I don't think she invited me specifically, but the basketball team was planning to go. I wasn't about to sit home alone on New Year's Eve, so I decided to catch a ride with Zeke and the guys. Troy's still on vacation with his parents, so I didn't even have my wingman.

But the party managed not to suck. The Evanses hired a caterer, and a deejay, and we had one entire floor to ourselves. I don't even think her parents were home.

I'm not into dancing. I _can _dance, I just don't. I could tell that a few girls were eyeing me, hoping I'd ask them. But I wasn't in the mood.

Sometime in between standing in the corner talking to random people who wandered over, and drinking several cups of the punch, I realized it had been spiked pretty strongly. Normally I stay away from that stuff, ya know, because of basketball. But last night I decided, what the heck.

Big mistake. I started talking to Sharpay's brother Ryan, and he kept fidgeting with his hat. I think I was trying to give him a play-by-play of our last game or something, but he's a theater geek, so I guess he didn't care very much. I found myself being abandoned mid-sentence when Ryan spotted some girl I don't know very well, Kelsi, and screamed her name. She came over, said something about "Let's go dance," and that was the last I saw of Ryan.

I went looking for the bathroom, and instead I stumbled into a room that was full of…pink. The walls, the floor, the couch, everything. I figured this was Sharpay's hangout. Unless it was Ryan's.

I walked around, staring at all the awards lining the walls. They all had Sharpay's name. Guess she's a really good actress. I wouldn't know. You couldn't _pay_ me to go to one of East High's shows.

I heard giggling, and tried to head for the door, but I tripped over, uh, probably my own feet, and landed headfirst on one of her feather-covered bean bag chairs. Sharpay entered the room and saw me getting up.

"What are _you_ doing here? Get outta my sanctuary!"

I tried to apologize, but then she started giggling again. "You have a feather in your hair." She came over and plucked it out, then ran it along her bottom lip.

I think Sharpay had had a few more glasses of punch than me. Either way, she was definitely sending signals. I think. It's all a bit hazy.

"You and Troy are best buddies, aren't you?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah."

"I wish he coulda come to my party." She pouted. "But I guess you're the next best thing, right?"

_What?_ We ignored each other at school. She stuck with her drama geeks and I stuck with the jocks. And all of a sudden, she's coming onto me? _What? _

"I think I should go," I mumbled.

Sharpay shrugged. "Okay. You do that. Buh-bye." She continued to giggle.

"Will you stop that!" I think I got a little too cranky, because she grabbed my shirt as I walked by.

"No one orders me around," she said, but she wasn't angry, just playful. My head was swimming. She smelled really good, and she had this fruity gloss on her lips that she kept licking, and the next thing I knew, she pushed me down onto the feather-beanbag-thing.

"You're actually kinda hot," Sharpay giggled as she pulled my shirt over my head. "Built, too." She ran her hand along my stomach until her fingers reached my belt.

And I need to stop there, because thinking about the rest just makes me sick. Let's just say that we both got to have a little fun, but that it didn't get past, uh, the point of no return.

When we both realized it was a good idea to stop (or maybe she stopped me, I really have no idea, it all happened so fast), I threw my clothes on and scrambled out of there as fast as I could.

Once I hit the porch, I breathed in a few sobering breaths of the chilly night air. Then I jogged all the way home, and the next thing I remember was waking up this morning with a killer hangover and Zeke calling my cell.

I can only hope Sharpay doesn't tell anyone. Oh, crap. She told her brother, I know it. Those two are totally joined at the hip. They're like, crazy connected. He probably read her mind the second she came back out of that room. _Shit_.

I rummaged around in my desk, and found the school directory. I quickly flipped to the E section and dialed Sharpay's number, praying she'd be the one to pick up.

"The Fabulous Sharpay Evans," she answered her phone. What a pretentious freak.

"Hi, this is Chad Danforth."

"Why are you calling me?"

I swallowed and somehow my voice came out sounding confident. "I just wanted to make sure that we're on the same page about last night."

Sharpay hesitated, and I could practically hear her weighing her options. Finally, she said, "I'm on the page where you showed up at my party for five minutes and then left."

I couldn't believe my luck. "Right. We didn't even see each other."

"Well duh, why would we? We do _not_ associate with one another."

"No, we don't."

"Goodbye, Mr. Danforth."

"Happy New Year, Ms. Evans."

Sharpay sounded taken aback at the sentiment. "Happy New Year."

I heard her click the phone off, and I fell back onto my bed, completely relieved. I really dodged a bullet there.

No one can ever know what happened last night. No one. Ever. I am going to completely ignore the entire theater department this year. In fact, I'm not even going to enter the auditorium if I can help it. I can't risk all those actor types finding out. Sharpay may have been understanding this morning, but she is _devious_. I can't afford to get on her bad side, under any circumstances.

If I do, I'm totally screwed.


	2. Gabriella

Disclaimer: I don't own Gabriella Montez or her mother. Her mother may make the world's best brownies, but I really don't think Disney wants me eating them. Or using their characters without permission.

**Gabriella Montez**

**New Year's Day 2006**

**10:56 a.m.**

I scanned the dining hall, but there was no sign of him.

"What are you looking for, Sweetie?" my mom asked, trying to be helpful.

I sighed. "Oh, nothing."

She kept her eyes on me for a few more seconds, but I wasn't showing any more signs of distress, so she went back to piling food onto her plate.

I moved along the buffet line, not really interested in all the brunch selections. I ended up choosing eggs, toast, and some fruit. I was never able to eat my money's worth at a buffet. My mother should know this by now.

She should also know that I had absolutely no desire to come on this crazy vacation. She said it would be good for us to bond before we moved yet _again_. That plan had backfired spectacularly.

Neither of us ski, snowboard, or attempt otherwise sport-related activities, so coming here was kind of pointless. I spent the week catching up on my reading, and she spent the week going to every event the lodge offered, from singles' mixers to pottery classes. She invited me to every single one, but the last thing I felt like doing this week was being social, especially when I think about what I have to deal with _next _week. I'm going to have to start over at a whole new school, make all new friends, and probably have to leave again before my junior year is even over.

My mom has a great job; it's not her fault she has to move so much. I appreciate the sacrifices she's had to make to raise me on her own.

But I've had to sacrifice a lot, too, you know? I really hope that we're able to stay in Albuquerque until I graduate. I am resolved not to be this school's new "freaky math girl." My school in San Diego was _torture_. I need time to make a good impression, actually make friends I can keep, and maybe even get myself a few dates.

Up until last night I would have thought that last goal completely impossible. Guys do not notice shy, brainy girls like me.

Until Troy. I was really hoping he'd be here this morning. I scanned the dining area again, but there was no sign of him.

I'm not naïve; I know our meeting was just a one-time thing. I'm not expecting to ever see him again. It'll be a miracle if he actually does call me. I may not have experience with boys, but I do know that "I'll call you" rarely ever means just that.

But still, it felt really, really nice to be noticed. I think we had a connection. I've always loved to sing, but to find a guy whose voice harmonizes perfectly with mine is just so amazing. When we both stepped onto that stage, there really was magic in the air.

The only way I can describe it is…well, it was like kindergarten. I remember when I was that little, I'd meet someone and we'd instantly become best friends, even though we knew nothing about each other. When I stepped onto that stage with Troy, I felt like even though I didn't know his name yet, we were somehow connected. He's that special.

Even if I never see Troy again, I'm grateful to have had one perfect night with him.

"Where are you going?" My mom grabbed my elbow and steered me towards the nearest table.

I glanced around. I had been wandering away from the buffet. Oops. "Sorry, Mom. I was thinking."

"About…?" she prompted.

Usually, I tell my mom just about everything. But I couldn't bring myself to tell her about Troy. She'll probably try to talk me into calling him, and I can't do it. I can't be the one to call. I'll sound desperate.

"Nothing in particular. Just nervous about starting a new school, I guess."

"Oh, Sweetheart, I know it's going to be awkward at first, but you always find your way. I'm sure everyone in Albuquerque will love you!"

"I don't know about everyone, but I really hope I make a good first impression."

"You will. Just be yourself."

"You have to say this stuff because you're my mom."

She grinned. "No, I have to say this stuff because it's the truth."

I just bit into my toast and rolled my eyes. I really, really can't wait to just get the first day of school over with already. I have an entire week left to do nothing besides read…and hope that Troy calls.

Well, I guess it's not so bad. Maybe he really will call me. At least it'll give me something to look forward to if I concentrate on thinking about him.

As long as I don't have to think about my new high school all week, I don't really care what happens. Really.


	3. Taylor

Disclaimer: I _wish_ I had Taylor to help me study. Maybe it would make grad school a breeze. Alas, I do not. She belongs to Disney.

**Taylor McKessie**

**New Years Day 2006**

**7:52 a.m.**

"Happy New Year!" I called to my sister as I heard her pass by my room.

"Tay?" She poked her head in and frowned at me. "Don't tell me you're studying this early!"

I shrugged, pointing to my books. "The Scholastic Decathlon is only three weeks away. I have to be ready."

She stifled a giggle. "Dork," I thought I heard her mutter affectionately as she headed back down the hall.

I went back to my books. She didn't say it to be mean, and coming from my sister, it didn't bother me. I _am_ a dork, if the definition of dork is someone who cares about her schoolwork and wants to succeed.

My sister was wearing last night's clothes. I'm sure she just got in from a party. I, on the other hand, went to sleep at a sensible hour, set my alarm so I could watch the ball drop with my parents, and then returned to bed, like any normal…uh, dork.

I wonder where my sister was last night. The biggest bash in town was probably the Evanses' party. I decided to go ask her. I don't care all that much about parties and such, but since most of my classmates were probably there, I was curious.

"Hey, at which party were you?"

My sister rolled her eyes at my grammatically correct question. "Sharpay and Ryan's. A few people I graduated with were going, so I tagged along." She raised her eyebrows. "And you want to know if _he_ was there, don't you?"

I felt my cheeks grow hot, but I tried to ignore her tone. "I made no inquiries about any specific guest," I tried to say nonchalantly, but my sister, being my sister, saw right through me.

"Yeah, whatever. He was there. He looked kinda bored, though, without his buddy Troy. Those two are so in love with each other." She made a face. "You should have gone. You might have been able to talk to him."

"Oh, sure. Like he would ever talk to me."

"Chad seems like a good guy, Taylor. Why wouldn't he like you?"

"Shh!" I hissed. "Don't say his name out loud!"

She stared at me, probably wondering if it was okay to laugh in my face. "Why are you being so ridiculous about this? If you like him, you should ask him out."

Yeah, right. My sister has no idea what she's talking about. Chad and I have had exactly five conversations in our entire lives. Four of those conversations involved him leaning over to me in homeroom and asking for help with his homework. I always obliged, but I really shouldn't have. But he looked so cute with those pouting lips and those pleading eyes…

Ahem.

The fifth conversation occurred this September in study hall. I was reading a book on the history of opera, and Chad asked if my book mentioned Andrew Lloyd Webber at all. While I was busy putting my eyes back into my head, he grinned a heart-melting grin and launched into a discussion about his favorite "Phantom of the Opera" songs. I managed to hold my own in the conversation, and I was sorry to hear the bell ring signaling the end of the period. That was the first time I actually started to think of Chad as a person, and not just as Troy the Basketball Man's flunky.

I encouraged my thoughts to return to the present. That was September, and we haven't spoken since.

"You went to East, sis. You remember what it's like. Jocks do _not_ mix with brains, remember? No matter what. Besides, he's a Neanderthal," I added for good measure.

My sister shook her head. "You're missing out, babe. You really need to do more with your life than study."

I crossed my arms, offended. "I have a perfectly good life. I have school, and babysitting, and student council, and yearbook…"

She gave me a look that could curdle milk.

"Fine, fine. I'll call Martha Cox and see if she wants to come over."

"No way. If you call that Martha girl, she's just going to come over and study with you. Doesn't count as socializing."

I huffed in defeat. "Okay. I'll invite her to the mall this weekend. You can drive us."

She was happy about that. "Sounds good."

Now that she was mollified, I could go back to the Scholastic Decathlon. "I'll let you get some sleep," I called as I headed back to my room.

I can get in about another hour or so of studying before my parents wake up. I do my best work when the house is quiet.


	4. Troy

Disclaimer: Zef is pretty cool and all, and I can't wait to see Seventeen Again, but I'm going to let him chill with Disney for now. Once I do formulate a plan to kidnap him, however, who wants in?

**Troy Bolton **

**New Years Day 2006**

**9:07 a.m. **

It wasn't supposed to be like this. My head was supposed to be filled with stress-free memories of skiing, basketball, and hot chocolate.

Instead, this trip gave me a hell of a lot to think about.

For one thing, I met this crazy amazing girl. I'll probably never see her again. I don't even know where she lives. But I have never, ever felt this way about a girl before. The girls at East High are mostly either giggling cheerleaders who worship the ground I walk on (which is nice, don't get me wrong, but I would never actually _date_ someone like that - my head would get too big too fast), or annoying nerds who clog up the halls spouting equations and other crap I know nothing about. I'd look really stupid if I went out with one of them.

And then there was Sharpay. The girl hadn't left me alone since freshman year. She's gorgeous, and smart to boot, but _not _girlfriend material. She's so full of herself. She thinks she's all that and a bag of chips. And what's almost worse, she thinks _I'm_ all that and a bag of chips. (See my reasons for ignoring the cheerleaders.) I guess I don't exactly discourage her; we flirted up a storm in science last semester. But on most days, I try to pretend she doesn't exist.

If I was desperate, I'd say yes to Sharpay. But I'm not desperate. There are more important things in life than girls. (Tell Chad that and I'll be forced to kill you.) But really, there are. Basketball, for one thing. And the guys on the team. And keeping my grades up so I can get a scholarship.

So you see, I'm a very busy man. No time for dating.

I actually believed all this junk I'm spewing to you right now. Until last night, that is.

Last night, I met this girl named Gabriella. Don't get me wrong, basketball is still everything. But she really made me think about my life.

Gabriella is the most normal girl I've ever met. And I mean that as a compliment. She's pretty and yet totally unaware of it, shy but sweet, a great singer, and her voice blends perfectly with mine.

I'm also thinking about something else. Something I really would rather not think about. I've always known I have a good voice. It's just a fact. I can hold my own in the shower, at least. But the second that spotlight hit my face last night, and those random dudes pushed me onto the stage, I felt completely different. I never sang in front of anyone before. The fact that I did without puking, and that people actually liked it…

I can't believe that my life changed so much in less than a second. I fell in love with singing, and with her.

I really think I am in love with Gabriella. The moment she opened her mouth to sing, I looked at her, really looked at her, and I swear it was love at first sight. Like I said, I'll probably never see her again, but I've never felt this way before. I keep smiling every time I think of her.

My dad's going on about strategy while we're driving home; he thinks my smiles are in response to his brilliant new plays. But I've heard my dad talk about basketball enough to tune him out while nodding only every so often. It's working now: he's oblivious. I get to have Gabriella all to myself in my head, my dad is happy, and my mom is asleep in the passenger seat.

I replayed our song in my head. _Who'd have ever thought that/We'd both be here tonight_…

_The world looks so much brighter/With you by my side_…Yeah, that could not have been a more perfect song for us. The start of something new for sure.

I know she felt it too. I know it. People just don't click like that right away.

And then there's the singing thing. I felt like a rock star up there on that stage. I'm used to being in front of crowds and performing under pressure, of course, but I'd never done something with such an intimate feel to it. In basketball, I'm constantly aware of everything: my boys on the court, Dad yelling from the sidelines, the cheerleaders waving their pom-poms, the roar of the crowd.

When I was singing last night, it was me. Me and the stage. And then when Gabriella joined in, it was me, the stage, and her. It was like I was on autopilot, in a good way.

My mind wandered back to Gabriella. _Why _didn't I kiss her at midnight? I had the perfect opportunity. We were outside, alone, and she was all too willing. But I didn't do it. I guess I didn't want to press my luck. Everything felt so perfect, you know? What if I had been misreading her signals and ended up scaring her away?

And then I'd lost my chance. She wanted to go wish her mom Happy New Year. I made some lame joke about how I wanted to do the same thing, but not to her mom, to my own parents. I am an idiot.

If I tell Chad about any of this, especially about the singing, he will _not_ let me live it down. He never passes up a chance to mess with me.

Last night I told her I'd call her. I told her I'd call her _today_. We exchanged numbers, and when I turned back to her, she was gone. What does that mean?

Was I supposed to have just those few minutes with her, and that was it? Why did she leave so fast? Man, I am so confused right now.

I flipped open my phone and pulled up her picture. I was dying to call her right now, but I couldn't do it with my parents here.

What is the right thing to do in this situation? I mean, I _want_ to call her. But what if I find out she lives in like, Idaho, or somewhere really far away? What could possibly happen between us? Maybe I should leave her be, as this amazing memory.

This sucks. I can't even talk to my best friend about her. He'll call me a wimp for not making a move. I could tell my dad, but I feel like he doesn't want to hear about my girl problems. He just wants me to be Mr. Basketball. And I can't talk to Mom about it, either. Too awkward.

I guess I really am going to have to just let it go. Last night was perfect, and I can't ever top perfect, right? So I probably shouldn't even try.

I flipped my phone shut again, adding an enthusiastic "uh-huh" to whatever Dad just said. I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat. We still have awhile before we get home. I can spend the rest of vacation daydreaming about being on stage with her, singing.

Yeah, that's definitely perfection.


	5. Sharpay

Disclaimer: Oh how I wish I owned Sharpay. She's a fantastic (excuse me, _fabulous_) character. I would even settle for being a Sharpette.

**Sharpay Evans**

**New Years Day 2006**

**3:46 p.m.**

"Again!" I pirouetted in front of Ryan and leaned back. He just barely caught me this time.

"Shar, I'm exhausted. We've been at this for so long. Alistair's not even here today," he whined. Alistair is our current rehearsal pianist.

"Ryan, how many times have we been over this?? Practice makes perfect! There can be no mistakes in theater—"

He cut me off by dropping me to the floor.

"Hey!" I rubbed my elbow where it had crashed into the dance mat. Owww.

"I mean it. I'm done for now. I need a break." He reached for his water bottle and took a long swig, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

I was flabbergasted. Ryan never ended the practices. He always kept going until I said it was perfect. What had gotten into him lately?

Chad Danforth, that's what. Or who. And he hadn't exactly gotten into him.

He'd almost gotten into _me_ instead.

I am determined to repress the memory of last night. I can't believe I did what I did. And it wasn't even _that_ good. I pretended he was Troy the whole time. Now Troy would be amazing at that stuff. But Chad? Chad was too drunk, and too eager, and…ew, I just need to pretend he doesn't exist. I didn't tell Ryan much, but I felt like I had to tell him that it happened. It was only fair. We tell each other everything, and this is important. But I really, really wish I could just block it all out. And to add insult to injury, Chad actually had the chutzpah to call me today. Trust me, it was the last time I will speak to that…that creature. I have to see him at school, of course, but we agreed to act as if nothing happened. But _I_ know it did. I have to live with it. And what it did to my brother.

I shuddered, trying to rid myself of these horrible thoughts. Ryan made a disgusted face and turned away from me. We can get some pretty strong twin telepathy going, but he doesn't know _all_ my thoughts. He's just really good at reading me.

"Ry, I know you're pissed about what happened. I'm sorry." Ryan is the only person I ever apologize to. He knows I mean it. He's just being difficult. But I cannot afford to have his pathetic little rebellion on my hands. Not this close to the spring musical auditions.

I tried again, when my last attempt evoked no response. "I really didn't mean for it to happen. I was drunk, and he was there, and he's kind of a good kis—"

Ryan turned and scowled at me. Oops.

"I mean, um…oh, come on. You know I didn't do it to hurt you!" I stamped my foot.

He closed the distance between us and gave me a tight hug, rubbing his hands up and down my back soothingly. "I know you didn't. I'm just upset at myself, mostly."

"Liar," I teased, ruffling his hair.

"Okay, so I'm angry at you, but I just wish I had the guts to make a move."

I pulled away from our hug and leveled with him. "You know I want you to be happy, Bunny. But he's straight. You have to get over this crush."

He sighed. "I know he is. It's just, sometimes he sends off this vibe that makes me think he might be interested. Like, last night…"

"Please," I scoffed. "I have better gaydar than you do. He's straight."

Ryan just nodded, though I could tell I didn't have him convinced. But we had to drop it. He was going to think what he wanted, and I couldn't stop him.

I patted his shoulder. "At least you have me," I cooed, and he smiled. "Who's my puppy? Who's a good puppy dog?" I patted his head and he rolled his eyes.

"Again?" he asked.

I held back my sigh of relief. I know one of these days Ryan's going to break away from me and actually get his own life. But until that day comes, (like, way, way off in the future when he actually comes out at school, maybe), he's under my complete control. After all, every princess needs a court jester to do her bidding.

"Yes, let's get this right. We need to make sure to impress Darbus this year. If we don't get every lead from now until the end of senior year, we can kiss Julliard goodbye."

"What's this? Miss Evans is actually having doubts?" he teased.

I poked him in the ribs. "Never. We _own_ the drama department. Thank God that snotty Heather Zara graduated last year. We haven't had even the slightest competition since."

"I know. It's fabulous!" he grinned widely at me, and I knew our relationship was back in balance. He wasn't mad anymore. He knows I don't have a single ounce of feeling for that nasty basketball-loving what's-his-face. Ryan can put him back in his daydreams where he belongs. (Ew, did I just say it was okay for my brother to crush on Danforth? I take that back. Ryan is _so_ out of that boy's league it's not even funny.)

"I'm going to try adding another move in the beginning," I told him as we got into position to begin the number over. "On Kelsi's intro, we should stick our hands out from behind the curtain and snap our fingers to the beat." I demonstrated my brilliant idea.

"Genius! _Twinkle Towne_ won't know what hit it," Ryan beamed. "Now let me just add a jazz square at '_This feeling's like no other_'…"

I gave him a sharp look. "Poodle, no jazz squares." I patted his head again. "Mmkay?"

He pouted at me, as if he thought I might actually give in. "Come on, Shar. Everybody loves a good jazz square."


	6. Kelsi

Disclaimer: If I owned Kelsi, I'd be commissioning songs nonstop. The girl has_ talent_.

**Kelsi Nielson**

**New Years Day 2006**

**6:56 p.m.**

I slammed my fingers down on the keys, making a very satisfying angry sound. The piano has always been able to express my feelings better than I can on my own.

I was frustrated because _Twinkle Towne_ was just not coming along how I wanted. What was the use? East High's Pied Piper and her rat were just going to screw it all up anyway.

I don't know why I bother.

This is the first time Ms. Darbus has trusted me with something so huge. She heard me playing in the music room one day, and insisted I compose the spring musi-_cal_, as she calls it.

It's an honor, it really is. But it's a _lot _of pressure. Ms. Darbus has to approve it, Ryan and Sharpay have to approve it, and heck, the entire student body ultimately has to approve it…what if _no one_ comes to see the show?

Ms. Darbus wants to hear the entire score the day we come back from winter break. There is no way I'll have it ready in a week.

I groaned as I put my head against the cold, hard wood of the piano. "Help me," I moaned.

Yeah, that's right. I'm so stressed I'm talking to a musical instrument. I've gone nuts. Haul me away to the institution. At least then I'll never have to see the Evans twins again.

I wish I had Troy Bolton's confidence. I look at him as he walks down the halls, surrounded by friends and admirers, and wish my life could be that perfect. Troy's biggest problem is probably finding two matching socks in his drawer. Scratch that. He probably has a perfectly neat sock drawer, organized by color or something.

When _I_ walk down the halls, I'm forced to trail along behind _her_ and _him_ and the other "real members" of the drama club, a.k.a. the actors. At rehearsals, I play what they tell me to play, and when to play it, and Ms. Darbus lets them walk all over me because Daddy Evans contributes a lot of money to the drama department.

If I ever had Troy Bolton's confidence, I'd totally stand up to them. I'd love nothing more than to give those two dictators a piece of my mind.

But _Kelsi_ would never do that. _Kelsi _does what she's told. And yet _Kelsi's_ completely replaceable. _Anyone_ can play the piano. I'd like to think Ms. Darbus actually cares a little more about me than that, but I know Thing 1 and Thing 2 definitely don't.

I think my real problem is that I don't have anyone to talk to about this. I can't talk to people at school. Even if I had the courage to go up to someone, I don't think I could take their rejection if they didn't like me. I don't really have any friends my age. I'm sure there are some nice girls at East, but I just can't seem to work up the courage to talk to any of them. These are girls I've known since kindergarten. But I've just always been Invisible Kelsi to them: the girl who plays the piano all day.

I decided it was time to hop off the self-pity train and concentrate on Arnold and Minnie. They had to have a duet in the second act; I was sure of that. But what would it need to say?

They would be in the midst of celebrating their love. I tried to imagine being in love. How would I feel? Loved? I laughed at myself. Real creative, Kels.

Hmm. Buoyant? Weightless? Free?

Ooh, _free_. That works. I scribbled furiously on my sheet music.

I wish _I_ could be free of Tweedledum and Tweedledumber. If I just had the strength to break away…

That's it! I could hear two perfectly harmonized voices in my head as I wrote down the newest lyrics: _But your faith/It gives me strength/Strength to believe/We're breaking free_…

Oh, yeah, I've got it!

I worked steadily for another twenty minutes until my stepmom came in and told me I had a phone call.

Hmm. I had already talked to my favorite cousin this morning, and my grandparents yesterday. Who would be calling me?

"Hey Kelsi, it's Ryan."

I suppressed a groan. Ryan's fine to talk to when he's without his sister, but the only reason he could be calling me today is to talk about the musical.

I tried to make my tone sound cheery. "Hey Ryan, what's up?"

"Well, I'm calling to thank you for last night."

My mouth popped open in surprise. "Th-thank me? For what?"

"For rescuing me from Chad. I usually like talking to him, but he was so drunk last night. He kept putting his hand on my arm, and it was making me uncomfortable."

Yeah, okay, Ry. Like you don't worship the ground that boy walks on. I've heard you and Sharpay talking. You were just afraid he was going to kiss you in front of everyone. He was probably just drunk enough to do it, too.

I managed to formulate what I thought was an appropriate response. "You're very welcome. You know I love dancing with you. You're definitely the best dancer at East."

"Stop it, you're making me blush!" He laughed.

I sighed. He's too good for that harpy he hangs out with. I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I went for the one safe topic. "I'm working on _Twinkle Towne_. It's coming along great."

"That's good. I'm really happy for you. I'm sure it's going to be a fantastic show. After all, I'm the only one who can pull off such a flat character like Arnold."

I spoke too soon. What a jackass. But he's a spoiled little rich kid. He doesn't know any better. "Yeah, Ryan, it's going to be a really good show. I'll see you next week, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Enjoy the rest of your break."

"You, too."

We hung up, and I really thought about erasing half of Arnold's lines from the script. But I didn't. That would be catty. That's so not me.

Nope, I'm the girl who suffers in silence. I swear, if Ryan and Sharpay change one chord of my beautiful music…

…I probably won't be able to do a thing about it.

Oh, well. At least I'll finally have a composition out there for people to hear. If anyone actually comes to the show, that is.


	7. Zeke

Disclaimer: It would not be a good idea for me to own Zeke. His hobby would change my diet in a bad way. I'd never eat anything but his amazing baked goods ever again.

**Zeke Baylor **

**New Years Day 2006**

**9:00 p.m.**

"What are you doing to me, Rachael?" I groaned as I flicked to her show. It was a rerun. I knew it would be; after all, it's a holiday. But I was in need of some cuisine therapy. Rachael Ray never failed to cheer me up.

I made a mockery of Emeril's Vanilla Bean Crème Brûlée earlier today. _Bam!_ indeed.

After that, my parents got into a screaming match and I was forced to retreat to my bedroom to drown out the noise. And I can't exactly bake in there.

I wish I could call Jason and ask if I could come over and use his kitchen. Unfortunately, I can't tell _any_ of my friends about my embarrassing obsession. What would they think if they found out their basketball buddy records every episode of _Hell's Kitchen_? That I buy recipe-a-day calendars as gifts and then end up keeping them for myself because so many of their suggestions look good?

I can't help it. I love to bake. And I can't tell a single student at East High.

Except one. But the one person I want to tell won't even give me the time of day.

I know it's stupid to get upset about this, but I'm still hurt that she didn't even _look_ at me last night, let alone talk to me. Some hostess, huh?

That's right, I'm in love with Sharpay Evans, the ice princess. As if I needed one more thing to hide from my friends. They all hate her. Well, hate's a strong word. They all think she's a stuck-up brat. Which she is. And when I'm with them, I have to act like I don't care about her.

But I feel like I could be the guy to bring out her humanity, you know? I believe she's a good person, underneath it all.

I asked her to homecoming last fall, and you know what she said? She said, "I'd rather swallow a live toad." I told her that would taste pretty disgusting. She just narrowed her eyes and stomped away. I don't get it. I'm not completely repulsive. I've been out with every girl on the cheerleading squad at least once. They don't seem to have any complaints.

I could have any one of them, and instead I torture myself over the only one I can't have. I must be a glutton for punishment.

My mom just slammed the front door. I used to rush to the window to see if she was carrying luggage as she left, but after months of doing that it tends to wear on a guy. So now I don't even bother to wonder if this is the time she leaves for good.

I heard the car start up and drive away. At least now the kitchen will be clear.

Dad barely looked at me as I came down the stairs and into the living room. He had ESPN on, and it was turned up extra loud. That was my signal to stay away. So I went back to the kitchen without a word.

So much for my New Year's resolution to make our family closer together. It didn't even last one day.

I got out all the ingredients to make oatmeal raisin cookies. Simple, relaxing, and they would smell good while they baked.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I flipped it open as I pulled it to my ear.

"Troy, bro, how was the trip?"

"It was great. Dad and I worked on some new drills we want to try out with the team."

"Excellent!" I took the butter out of the refrigerator and cursed under my breath as it slipped to the floor. Luckily, Troy didn't hear me. This is just not my night.

"Yeah. I just hung up with Chad. He said the party last night was pretty wicked."

"You know the twins can throw quite a party." I set up the electric mixer, but I would have to wait to use it until I was off the phone.

"True, true. Listen, how about we meet up at the gym tomorrow morning to get a head start on those drills?" That boy has a one-track mind, I swear.

"Sure thing. What time?" I poured the sugar into the bowl and waited patiently.

"Ten. It is still vacation, after all."

"Yeah. See you then." I hung up before he could say anything in return. I felt kind of bad about that, but sometimes I just don't feel like talking basketball. I ask the man how his vacation was and he tells me he worked on drills? You've got to be kidding me.

After finishing the cookies I had nothing to do while they baked. I needed to do something fun tonight. Take my mind off things.

I pulled out my phone again and called Jason.

"Hey man, I know it's late, but can you come over and watch a movie with me?" I sounded so desperate, but Jason is good about this kind of stuff.

"Your mom left again, didn't she?" I could hear the concern in his voice. That's why he is my best friend.

"Uh-huh."

"Give me five minutes."

I glanced in panic at the oven timer. "Uh, how about twenty? We have like no food in the house. I better go out and buy some." I could pretend the cookies were from the local mart and he'd have no idea.

"Don't be ridiculous, Zeke. I'll bring the snacks."

I sighed. I could always pretend my mom had put them in the oven right before she left or something. "Thanks. That would be great."

We hung up and I quickly hid the junk food in the garage. I had told him we had no food, after all.

This is so beyond lame. I should just tell him that I bake. Why is it so hard for me to admit? Even to my best friend? I guess I just think he'll see me differently. I don't know. I'm just not ready to expose that side of myself.

I made a mental note to discreetly put aside a few cookies to send to Sharpay. I'll have to do this anonymously, of course. But I feel like it might make her happy. Everyone loves getting presents, even the ice princess.


	8. Ryan

Disclaimer: I would never want to deprive the world of the awesomeness of Ryan by keeping him all to myself. Someone like him deserves to be shared!

**Ryan Evans**

**New Years Day 2006**

**5:42 p.m.**

I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like if Sharpay was just my sister instead of my twin. Or even what my life would be like if she didn't exist at all. I love her. But sometimes, just sometimes, I want people to look at _me_, and not just at Sharpay-and-Ryan, the Evans twins.

I play dumb a lot. Most people don't think I'm all that smart, my sister included. It's just easier that way. When I feign ignorance, people are more likely to talk to me, because they think I don't have my sister's vindictive streak.

Oh, I definitely do. But I _am_ willing to nice to my classmates. Sharpay, on the other hand, thinks of them as the "little people." Don't get me wrong, I'm all for self-confidence and all that. But my sister always takes it one step too far.

Playing dumb also allows me to escape blame while executing Sharpay's harebrained schemes. "Sharpay made me do it" is actually an adequate defense when my parents are involved. They'd never actually punish her, but _she_ gets the reproving looks when things go wrong, and I get a pat on the head.

Sharpay definitely knows deep down that I'm just as smart, if not smarter, than she is. But she won't even face the possibility, because it scares her. The second she believes I'm capable of leaving her, she knows I will. Like I said, I love her more than anything. She's my best friend. But unless she allows herself to actually _fee_l things, she's going to go down a very bad road, a road that I don't want for myself.

My sister may think she's the one who knows everything, but I swear there was something between Chad and me last night. He chose to talk to _me_, out of that big room full of people. And he kept touching my arm as he was making his points (about basketball, of course, but hey, baby steps). It may have been the magic punch doing most of the talking, but I pride myself on the ability to tell when a person is flirting. And he was. I know it. Because what does he do next? He finds the first available girl and gets some action. (Unfortunately, that girl was my sister. But nobody's perfect.) You see, he has no idea that he likes me. It's a denial thing. One of these days it will click in his head, that he can be Mr. Big-Shot Basketball Man and Mr. Ryan's-Boyfriend at the same time. It's possible to walk that line. Just look at Dennis Rodman.

You see, I don't mind waiting around for that. When it happens, it happens. In the meantime, I'm going to go on enjoying my life as best I can. If Sharpay will let me.

"Something on your mind, dear?" Magda murmured as she caught a glimpse of me out of the corner of her eye. She put down the pot she had been scrubbing and looked me over.

Magda can always tell when something's wrong. I don't hang out with her in the kitchen all that often, and when I do, it's usually because I want her advice. She may be the kitchen maid, but she is one wise woman.

I sighed. "Nothing much. Just thinking about my life."

"Ah." She gave me a knowing smile. "You know, you should go out tonight. No use wasting your vacation sitting around here. I'm sure Miss Sharpay will understand."

I sighed again. "But I don't have anybody to out _with_," I whined.

Magda wiped her brow and continued scrubbing the pot. "How about that cute boy from West?"

"That was nothing. We're over."

"That nice lifeguard at Lava Springs?"

"She went back to Texas at the end of the summer."

Magda was clearly out of suggestions, because she pursed her lips and didn't say anything else.

"See Magda? Sharpay's my only friend." It's really not as pathetic as it sounds. I have friendships. They just don't seem to last very long.

"Come here, dear." Magda wiped her hands on a towel and came over to give me a hug. Sharpay would probably hyperventilate if one of the staff tried to touch her. See what I mean about her and "the little people"? But I don't care. Magda is a great person. It doesn't matter to me what her job is.

She squeezed me until I couldn't breathe and then finally let go. "Now, now. There must be someone. Did you meet anyone at the party last night?"

"Well..." I trailed off, knowing she would take the bait.

"Someone's leaving out important details!" she chided.

"It's not what you think. He's not exactly in a position to be interested in me right now."

Magda's used to these kinds of answers. She thinks I'm always making excuses instead of making things happen. But I'm just not ready to be open with the kids at East. I don't exactly hide it, but I don't confirm any of the rumors, either. I just hold my head up and follow Sharpay, hoping people will leave me alone. Her commanding presence usually does the job for me.

"Ryan!!" Sharpay's voice sounded like it was coming from the dining room. "Where are you?"

"Must be dinnertime," I told Magda.

Just then the butler, Jeffrey, entered our part of the kitchen and announced that it was, in fact, time to eat. He picked up our plates from the chef's part of the kitchen and headed towards the dining room.

"We'll talk more after dinner," I told Magda, and she agreed. I ducked into the other part of the kitchen to tell our chef that it smelled delicious, and followed Jeffrey out to where my sister was waiting.

"What were you doing?" she greeted me accusingly.

I rolled my eyes. "Talking to Magda. Is that a crime?"

Sharpay sniffed and tossed her hair. "I'll never understand your fascination with the help."

"Are you really _that_ stuck-up?" I knew it was a risk to call her on this, but depending on her mood, she'll either take it or come back with a snippy remark.

"I guess Magda is pretty nice," she allowed, and I let out the breath I'd been holding. Apparently she was in a generous mood tonight. After our fight this afternoon I was afraid she'd be grumpy.

"What are you doing tonight?" I asked her.

"I was thinking of giving Boi some pink highlights. Want to help?"

That does kind of sound like fun. "Sure."

Looks like I won't be going out tonight after all, even if I could find some friends. I guess I just like my life the way it is for now. I'm not ready for any big changes yet.


End file.
